


The Beacon

by thewritetofreespeech



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Dom Isaac, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, Erotica, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Spanking, Sub Jackson Whittemore, Submission, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritetofreespeech/pseuds/thewritetofreespeech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The Beacon' was an exclusive, members only club designed to cater to clients of a certain interest. It's newest member, Jackson Whittmore, has joined because he can only get what he needs from his Dom, Isaac Lahey.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Tell me what you need..."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or it's characters._
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> _I usually ship DIsaac way more than JIsaac but the idea was so good I couldn't pass it up. Please enjoy_

Jackson sits in his car in the parking lot for almost a half an hour before he decides to go in the first time.

It's not because he's scared. He's Jackson Whittmore damnit! He was never scared. He was just…concerned about this place. What if it was a front for drug running? Or human trafficking? Or human trafficking to run drugs? Who knows!

The name isn't very comforting either. 'The Beacon'. Really? That didn't really sound like a name for the kind of place this was supposed to be. It didn't look like one either, just a non-descript brown stone like any other except the front door was a deep purple. What if he went to the wrong place? What if this wasn't it and he was greeted by an old woman who would then have a heart attack and die when he had to tell her where he was going?!

Nope, that settles it. He was just going to go back home and forget this whole thing ever happened.

But just as his hand reaches for the keys still in the ignition it freezes. He looks at the brownstone across the street with the purple door and something inside him tells him 'This is the place. This is where you belong.' So he instead takes the keys out of the ignition, slips them into his suit pocket, and gets out of the car.

As he walks up to the building he tried to exude the same level of confidence he did at work. He was a lawyer, like his father; well his adoptive father, but that's another story. Unlike his father, however, Jackson had gone into corporate law instead of criminal. He joked with his old man from time to time that he set them up and his father got them off. No one else but them thought it was funny. Probably because no one but them wanted to admit it was true.

He was good at his job though, cherry picked right out of Stanford Law because of his merits and not because of his father's name no matter who said otherwise. He had gone to both Stanford and Stanford Law on scholarship because of his athletic and academic abilities in school. Not that he needed the free tuition. His family could have afforded it.

His family is rich. His real family had also been rich and entrusted everything to their tiny infant son to inherit on his twenty-first birthday. So really Jackson himself was quite wealthy combined with his six figure a year salary with bonuses he was living on easy street.

Jackson was educated, rich, athletic, good looking, truly blessed. So why, might you ask, was someone like that going to a place like 'The Beacon' on a Friday evening instead of basking in the beauty of his perfect life?

Well, dear reader, despite Jackson's perfect upstanding appearance he had certain….urges. Certain urges that were best not discussed out in the light.

Jackson had first notice these…urges when he was in college. Well…maybe it had been even before that, but he could definitely pin-point the change in college around his junior year to be precise. He had been dating a girl name Susan Baker.

Now, Jackson had had no shortage of admirers from his time in high school to the present. Even before he admitted he was bi-sexual he had plenty of women to choose from so he went through a dry spell very infrequently. Like any red blooded male he enjoyed having sex, with multiple women (and later men) in multiple positions, but something about the sex was both satisfying and…not at the same time. It served its purpose. It got him off. But something deep inside him was never satisfied, like this deep pit in him couldn't be reached but was begging to. He never told any of his partners this though. He didn't want them to think they, or he, was inadequate in bed and couldn't truly satisfy him. So every question, every prod of 'was it good for you?' was answered with the typical 'the best sex I've ever had' until he got bored and moved to the next one.

It wasn't until he met Susan Baker that this started to change. After a particularly enthusiastic round of sex one evening, gearing up for round two, Susan had rolled over and asked, "Want to try something new?" Jackson, of course, being fairly coercible thanks to his earlier orgasm and personal philosophy of 'I'll try anything once' agreed.

He had been surprised, to say the least, when Susan pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and a blind fold. "Think you can use them on me?"

Jackson hadn't been sure at the time what made that round of sex so intense but for the first time he actually felt sated. At first he thought it was because they had already done it once before. Then he thought maybe it was the visual of Susan being restrained like that. Then, he realized, it wasn't the act but the feeling it gave him that made it so intense. It was later more of a surprise when he discovered that he wanted to be the one to be cuffed and blinded instead of Susan. He played it off like he only wanted to try it because she seemed to like it. But that place inside him, that place deep down that craved acknowledgement and touch, seemed to brush finger tips across places not so deep inside at the thought.

That night Jackson came so hard he thought he passed out for a bit. And after that night, that deep place inside him had dug its claws in and crawled out just a little more. It wasn't going to go back either. He wasn't going back.

Jackson and Susan dated up until they graduated from college. Seeing as how Jackson was going to law school, and Susan was not, they thought it best to just part ways with a clean break instead of dragging it out with empty promises to have a long distance relationship and still make time for each other. It had hurt, but they both knew it was for the best so there were no tearful goodbyes when he went one way and she went the other.

Single again, Jackson had been excited to get back out in the dating world after his relationship had been given proper time to grieve. His enthusiasm was dampened, however, when he realized how hard it was to truly satisfy his needs with one-night stands.

After that first night Susan and Jackson had experimented a little while they had dated.

Nothing too crazy, it didn't escalate to more than handcuffs and blindfold with the occasional spanking with hands on Jackson's part. He rarely received any of the 'special treatment'. He wanted to ask, but was embarrassed. He was the guy after all. He shouldn't want…those things, but he did. He did and so much more. After the discovery of his little kink he spent his free evenings looking into porn on the subject to jack off to to try and get that feeling back. That of course led him to other videos. Then that of course led him to other videos. Then that of course led him to more videos and specialty sites and online shops that sold gear for people with certain inklings for things like that. And Jackson had been so mortified that his small kink had led him there that he had closed his laptop quickly and forgone masturbation all together. For a while at least.

Soon he was looking into things every now and then when he was on his laptop doing research for school, like a timid child peering around the corner of a hallway when they think they see something that isn't there.

After a while he's actively researching the topic, learning the interworking's of it like it's one of his practice law cases or test prep questions so he can get the answer right.

After that bondage porn is the only thing he can get off too, but he doesn't tell anyone especially Susan because he doesn't want her to look at him like he's some sort of freak.

Now, when he looks back on it, he wishes he had told Susan. It would have been easier to tell her what he needed then the faceless strangers he picks up in bars on late nights. He doesn't even attempt to discuss it with them. They serve a purpose. They are there to fill a need. Just not the need he actually needs.

So for several years, Jackson goes on like that.

He goes to bars and picks up strangers to have meaningless sex that is gratifying but not satisfying. He doesn't get into relationships for very long because they always say 'you're holding something back' and eventually leave even though he tells them 'everything is fine'. He tries light self-bondage to take the edge off, but when that only helps a little he just throws the rest of his energy into his work. Hence why he's so successful.

He was content to go on like that, or rather 'ok' to go on like that, until one day a pop-up ad came up on his screen while he was surfing for porn about a place for people like him.

It was called 'The Beacon' and apparently it was an exclusive, member's only club for clients to live out their fantasies of this certain…nature.

Jackson had scoffed at first, unsure how 'exclusive' an establishment could be if it advertised on the internet. But still, his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he called the number listed to request more details.

The woman on the phone told him that he would have to schedule an appointment.

She said that if he provided his email she would send him a preliminary invitation, with instructions on how to get there, and he would have five days to use it. After the fifth day, he would be barred for one year before he could attempt to make an effort to apply again. "As punishment," She had said, "for failure to complete this task in the approved timeline." Jackson's heart beat had sped up over the phone just because of that.

So today, on the fifth day, Jackson musters up all the swagger and courage he can as he ascends the stoop and presses the call button for entry.

"Yes?" A woman's voice replies out of the black box by the purple door.

"Umm…hi? I'm Jackson Whittmore. I don't have an appointment or anything but I got a-"Yes Mr. Whittmore. Your receival of a preliminary invitation is on file. Please come in."

The loud buzzing of the door being allowed open cuts off whatever retort Jackson had on his tongue for her interrupting him. He decides to swallow it and opens the door, steeling himself for the worst. What greets him is a surprise. He hadn't been expecting this.

The entrance to the club looks like any typical waiting room. It's bright, well lit. The couches across the wall are all white to match the line of carpet that leads to the receptionist desk. The walls are painted in cream with accent walls in cerulean blue. There was even a ficus and a calming fountain for God sakes.

"Ah, Mr. Whittmore, we've been expecting you."

"You have?" Jackson asks, flirting a charming smile to the dark haired brunette behind the counter. She returns it, but does not seem swayed.

"Yes, please have a seat and I'll let Mistress Lydia know you're here."

"Mistress Lydia?" He questions.

She smiles. "Yes. Mistress Lydia is the owner and main dom of this establishment. She insists on meeting all new potential clients first hand before letting them apply."

"Should I be worried?"

The girl behind the counter continues to smile, but does little else to answer the question one way or another. "Please take a seat. Can I get you any refreshment before you begin?"

Jackson shakes his head and unbuttons the button on his suit jacket before sitting down. Once he's seated the woman gets up and disappears behind a sheet of foggy, tinted glass and the sound of doorways.

He sits there quietly while he waits for the girl to return. The light jazz from the speakers is irritating to him. And the calming fountain makes him want to pee. "Mr. Whittmore?" Jackson perks up at the sound of his name, not having heard the receptionist return, "Mistress Lydia will see you now."

Jackson stands and clears his throat while straightening his tie. He isn't nervous. He just wants to make a good impression.

The receptionist leads Jackson behind the fogged glass and a short expansion of hallway to a set of double doors.

"Whenever you're ready," She tells him when they are in front of the bronze colored doors, like he needs time, and then leaves.

Jackson watches her leave; eyes narrowed at the accusation that he isn't ready, and opens the doors when she rounds the corner.

"Your mother never taught you how to knock?" Jackson halts at the sharp voice that greets him, sweet yet domineering. It commands attention, but is subversive in the command. "I'm guessing she didn't teach you not to linger in doorways either. Sit down." The crown of red hair lifts and Jackson is met with a pair of piercing green eyes that, like her voice, commands attention.

Jackson obeys not because he wants to but because he doesn't want to make a bad first impression. He crosses the office and sits in one of the plush white chairs in front of the smooth smoke colored desk.

"So, Allison tells me that this is the fifth day of your invitation. Why so late?"

"I've been busy with work."

"Hmm…busy." Mistress Lydia muses, leaning back in her chair with a delicate fold of her hands in her lap. "Are you sure it's not something else?"

"I also wanted to make sure that this place was legit." Jackson tells her and she chuckles through ruby lips.

"I can assure you, Mr. Whittmore, this establishment is completely legitimate."

"For a BDSM brothel," Jackson can immediately see that he has chosen the wrong words to speak because Lydia's polite expression leaves and she arches a brow at him.

"You're new at this aren't you."

"For the most part," he confesses, but still unwilling to give up all control.

"Then I'll let that slip slide. BDSM is not just about sex, Mr. Whittmore. It's about trust and submission, whether you're a dom or a sub. A sub has to trust in their dom to do the right thing and submit to their will. A dom has to trust and submit to the needs of their sub. Our roles aren't as black and white as they seem." Jackson swallows at the thought of having to give his trust so willingly to someone like that and Lydia must notice. "Why are you here?" She asks, leaning forward in her chair and voice edging on coy.

Jackson scoffs, "isn't it obvious?"

"No, I want you to tell me." She commands without commanding.

The Mistress seems content to let Jackson think of an answer, mull the question over for a minute before he answers honestly, "I'm here…because I need to experience something I can't get in the real world."

"And why is that?"

"Judgment, fear."

"Fear and judgment on your part? Or fear and judgment from others?"

"Both,"

Lydia hums and leans back in her chair approvingly. "Very well. You've come to the right place. Tell me Jackson, may I call you Jackson?" He nods and she reciprocates the gesture. "What role do you play?"

Jackson feels a heat spread across the back of his neck and move up to his cheeks as he answers, "I'm uh…I'm pretty sure I'm a sub." He hasn't tested the theory, not having the means to expierence his urges fully, but when he fantasizes he always pictures himself as the one that's bound, not the one that's binding.

"Good," Lydia tells him, "so do I."

"You do?" Jackson asks, confused and concerned as to how she knew. He had only met her for a little while and she had figured it out. Did that mean that others had figured it out? People in his personal life? His work?

"Yes. It doesn't take a genius in my field to see that all that bravado is compensating for something. And that wasn't an insult. So don't argue with me." Lydia instructs as she makes a few notes on a pad.

"I just…I don't like this part of myself ok," he confesses, his eyes down cast to the floor in shame.

"Because of judgment and fear?"

"Because I don't like being out of control. But-"You need it." Jackson looks up at Lydia when she finishes his sentence for him. Her voice is still commanding yet sweet, but it's the look on her face that gets him. This look of understanding and acceptance, that she gets him, and won't judge. That might have been what got Jackson to stay at 'The Beacon', the overwhelming feeling of being understood for once. He nods and she smiles at him.

"This is an application for new members into our club." Lydia tells him, handing a thick pack of papers that reminds Jackson of one of his legal contracts rather than an application. "In there it provides a contract you must sign and adhere to to be a member. It also provides consent for us to do a background check and medical exam on you."

"Whoa…background check? Medical exam?"

"I need to make sure that you're not a homicidal killer with possibly fatal STDS." She explains to him."The procedure is mostly non-invasive. And if you choose to stay you'll have to keep your record updated every six months."

"Every six months?" Jackson asks in borderline outrage at the inconvenience.

Lydia sighs. "As you'll read in your contract in exchange for providing you a clean and safe environment for you to practice your fantasies, we expect you to do the same for our staff. Whether you have a sub or dom assigned to you, you are expect to keep an up to date medical history on file and any diseases recorded results in immediate expulsion."

"Even curable ones?"

"You can't be trusted." The statement leaves no room for argument. As she's said, this whole thing was based on trust. "The application process takes about three weeks to complete.-"Three weeks?! I was trying to get laid now."

"Mr. Whittmore, if you're looking for some random fuck to smack you around a little while you dirty up some hotel sheets I suggest you try the yellow pages, not this establishment." The Mistress says and he can see his interrupting questions and seeming inconvenience are wearing her patients thin.

Jackson loosens his tie and tries to remember to be humble. "Ok, fine. What happens after three weeks?"

"Provided you return your application in a timely fashion, after three weeks you will be called back to meet with your dom. Then you'll be put on a probationary status to make sure you know the rules and abide by them."

"Meet? I don't get to pick." He asks in genuine curiosity.

"No, you don't." Lydia tells him, seeming no longer irritated but reminding him he's on thin ice. "Would you prefer a man or a woman as your dom?" She asks retrieving her pen.

"A man," Jackson replies after a moment and she scribbles that down. "What? No snide comment about how the queers drove me to this?"

"First of all, I don't tolerate that kind of derogatory language in my office." Lydia scolds him, genuinely scolds. "Secondly, whether you're gay or not is of no business to me. And third, gay or not some people prefer to have same sex doms. It's completely natural."

"Ok," Jackson says, though is a bit confused. It's the first time anyone has told him his feelings are 'completely natural'.

"Are you currently married or in a committed relationship?"

"No. Why would I be here if I had that?"

"For the same reason you're here now." The redheaded Mistress tells him, leaning back in her chair again. "Many people with our specific tastes don't feel comfortable sharing their needs even with those closest to them. They come here seeking release. Unfortunately we have to turn them away."

"That's prejudicial." Jackson bites and is surprised that it's met not with hostility but a smile.

"You're new, so I'll explain. These games you'll be involved in with your dom rely heavily on trust, intimacy, and honesty, things that every relationship needs to grow. If you take that away it will wither and be destroyed. We aren't in the business of breaking up couples, Jackson. We're in the business of satisfying a need. If you have a spouse or committed partner, you both are more than welcome to come back for our training classes and couples group sessions. If you lie, I will find out and you will face permanent expulsion. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good." Lydia makes a few more notes before clicking her pen closed and sitting it back down. "That's all I need from you today. Read that over, fill it out, and have it back as soon as possible so we can get your trial period started." She stands and Jackson stands after her. "It's been a pleasure Jackson." A delicate, pale hand is extended towards him and Jackson takes it to shake.

He sees himself out of her office and back into the lobby. The pretty brunette receptionist, Allison, smiles at him as he leaves, wishing him a good day and to come back soon. Jackson nods and walks numbly back towards his car. When he puts his hand back on the ignition he's able to start up the car this time and drives away.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes more than three weeks for Lydia's receptionist to call him back. Not like Jackson was counting or anything.

But, to be fair, it was a lot to go over.

Along with his medical exam, background check, legalese, and general application for his basic information, there was a portion that Jackson deemed 'the essay section'.

This portion was for Jackson to explain, preferably in detail, what he hoped to achieve from his experience at The Beacon.

He stared at the page for over three hours and still had no idea what to write down. He thought about it, and thought, and thought…..and he still couldn't think of what he wanted from The Beacon outside of the obvious. So, to complete the application, he writes down that he wants a dom and a place to explore his fantasies.

There is also a section for him to write down things he would be interested in (spanking, bondage,….breath play) and things that he was against (blood play, rape fantasy, scat play because ew…). He also made it clear that he was not to receive any permanent marks or long term marks that couldn't be covered with his suit. His work revolved around appearance, and he might have a hard time getting by with the 'I ran into a wall' excuse after a while.

It took him a week to complete everything and he sits on pins and needles, jumping for his phone on its first ring, until he gets the call.

The receptionist gives him specific instructions to be at The Beacon at 6 pm on Friday. He thinks to object, he has work to do Friday evening, but before the words can leave his mouth Allison tells him, "Mistress Lydia insisted."

So on Friday, after a lot of hard work earlier in the week and a fair amount of juggling, he parks his Porsche, walks up to the brown stone with the purple door, with much more actual confidence than last time, pages for entry on the black box, and waits to be let in.

"Good to see you again Mr. Whittmore." The brunette, he thinks he remembers is Allison, greets.

"Likewise," He replies with his classic charm and smile.

"Let me see if Mistress Lydia is ready for you, then you can go back."

He juts the corner of his mouth when she leaves, finding it amusing that she was immune to him.

It doesn't take long with Allison to come back, saying that the Mistress will see him now. She doesn't usher him this time. He's on his own.

"Jackson, so good to see you again." Lydia greets in friendly rapport. Jackson nods, prepared to say something but fumbles when he realizes she's not alone.

"Likewise, and this is…."

"Isaac, your new dom."

The redhead touches the blonde's shoulder and he turns around to look over the other at Jackson with bright blue eyes. "Nice to meet you," He says before standing and offering his hand to Jackson. He takes it.

"I take it from your expression you aren't satisfied with my selection." Lydia says with a bat of her eyes.

"What? No. I just didn't expect-" 'Someone like him.' He thinks. This guy, he looks….not up to the job Jackson needs. He's pale, and lean, and has curly hair, and looks more like a puppy than a person. Hell! He look more like a sub than Jackson does. Jackson should be his dom.

"Appearance generally means nothing in this world." Lydia interjects thoughtfully. "Some of the burliest, roughest men can be the most submissive sub to the daintiest of dom." A coy smirk comes to her lips and Jackson thinks she's speaking from experience. "I've selected Isaac because I feel that he is best suited for you. Aside from his extensive, above par training-"

"Ego stroking are we?"

"-Isaac's particular type of doming would be something I think you'd respond to." Lydia pretends not to notice Isaac's interruption, but he looks immensely proud that he got away with it.

"Which is?"

"I'm a dominate bottom."

Jackson's gaze shifts to the other man, who smiles in a cocky yet adorable sort of way that lets you both know and never suspect he could do a bad thing in his life. His cock twitches a little at it.

"Now, you boys should get to know each other, preferably outside of my office. Isaac, why don't you take Jackson to your room?"

Jackson blinks, not sure how long he was staring at Isaac, but when he looks up Isaac is chuckling and looking at him through his bangs. "Yes Mistress Lydia." He says, in a low roll that again makes Jackson's cock twitch. He pats Jackson's arm when he passes for the door and Jackson follows him out.

He continues to follow Isaac down the hallway, past the fogged glass behind the reception desk that now has a blonde sitting at it, and through a pair of double doors. Behind the doors was something more to Jackson's expectation when he came here the first time. Red walls with painted black ivy crawl towards the ceiling from black wooded floors and curling around doors lining the walls in alteration. The sudden stereotypical familiarity causes Jackson's heart to race but he continues to follow. He's made it this far. There was no turning back now.

"Mistress Lydia is the one who trained me." Jackson looks up from the floor and to Isaac, who must notice that he's nervous and wants to distract him with idle chit-chat. "Personal flattery aside, everything she said is true. Not only is Mistress Lydia a superb dom, she's also a fantastic trainer. She instructed most of the doms here personally, except for Derek."

"Derek?"

Isaac smirks just a little, but nods. "You might meet him one day, a real Alpha-male type. However, most of your time here will be spent with me and if I have my way you'll be too busy to socialize." Jackson wants to say he doesn't blush when Isaac turns that innocent-not innocent smile on him again as he leans against a door jam. "Here we are."

He opens the door and nods Jackson in. Jackson steels himself and stands tall when he goes in, and doesn't flinch when he hears the door close.

In comparison to the hallway outside, this room is rather down played. The floors are black too, but the walls are a charcoal, smoke gray like the sheets on the iron four post bed.

"Do you want me to take my clothes off?" Jackson asks, trying not to think about the bed. Or what's in the dresser by the wall. Or the chains with shackles at the end hanging from the wall by the large mirror.

"If that will make you feel more comfortable, but for now I just want to talk."

"Talk?" Jackson asks with a quirked brow when Isaac walks past him, ignoring him, and grabs a stool from the corner.

"Yes, talk." He confirms, sitting on the stool and gesturing for Jackson to sit on the edge of the much more comfortable bed.

"I'm not paying you all all this money to talk."

"No, you're paying us all this money so I can dominate you and make you feel something more than the 15 seconds of bliss an orgasm gives you." Isaac says like it's a natural thing to say. "If you want the marathon, and not the sprint, I suggest you sit down." Jackson doesn't move, glares, because he's not getting what he wants. But Isaac's face goes cold and when he orders, "Sit." Jackson obeys. "Good, now first things first, have you picked out your safe words?"

"Words? I thought there was only one safe word."

"Generally yes, but I work on a two-tier system. One word is the off switch. We stop everything but I would like you to talk to me about it so, in the future, I know what not to do. The other is more of a pause button. If things are too much and/or you need a break, you use that one."

"Ok."

He tells him that his safe words are Kanima and lacrosse. When Isaac asks him why, he tells him he played lacrosse in school and he loved it (his pause word) and Kanima was a monster in a book he read that gave him nightmares (his stop word).

"Lydia gave me your packet so I know what your hard lines are and what not to cross. Anything not in the packet that I need to know about?"

"I don't think so." Jackson says after a minute, fidgeting with his hands.

"What do you want to do first?"

"I….I don't know." Jackson says almost instantly, wringing his hands.

"Take your clothes off." The words take Jackson by surprise and he looks up at Isaac, who is now standing, towering over him. "When you're done, fold them up and place them on top of the dresser. I expect you to do this every time you come here. For this time, however, I want you to leave your underwear on, if you're wearing any. All other times I expect you to be naked when I arrive. Sit on the edge of the bed when you're ready."

He steps back, gives Jackson the floor so to speak, and the other gulps before standing and shedding out of his suit.

As his jacket slips off his shoulders, his tie pulls free from his neck, the belt slips from the loops, Jackson feels naked. Not in the sense that he's losing his clothes, but exposed. Like the loss of every piece of clothing was like taking off a piece of armor, a brick from his wall. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. His heart rackets around his chest like a startled bird.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting you ready to go for a walk my pet," Isaac says with a smile, heading for the dresser. "Oh, and just so there are no confusions in the future, unless I give you full permission to speak you are only to speak when spoken to. Is that clear?"

The smile on his lips is still sweet when he turns back around, too sweet for someone holding a collar and thin chain in his hands.

"Yes," Jackson replies and choke on air when a sharp slap whips across his face.

"That was a rhetorical question." Isaac tells him, slipping the black leather around Jackson's neck before giving it a meager tug. "Come."

Jackson growls just a little at being treated like a dog, he wasn't into that, but follows Isaac as he leads him out of the room and back down the hallway. It was his first day. He didn't want to get kicked out already.

The wooden floor is cold on his feet and the pad soundlessly behind the dom. As he's led down the hall, he sees another couple coming their way. Jackson's eyes widen when he sees Allison, who smiles coyly at him, leading a dopy eyed Hispanic looking man in a similar way that Isaac is leading him in thigh highs and indigo corset. So she was a dom too? Who knew….

A sharp tug of the chain lets Jackson know that Isaac isn't pleased. He thinks to growl again, but resists, and follows Isaac to the threshold of a door at the very end of the hall.

"This is the toy room." He says, looking Jackson in the eye when he speaks. "There are some basic pieces in my room, but this is where we keep the more…adventurous stuff. I want you to pick out three things, one you would like to try today and two things you would like to try in the future. Bring them to me." The dom then opens the door and leads Jackson in. His jaw practically drops once inside.

If you ever wondered what Toys-R-Us would look like if it was made for sexual deviants instead of kids, this would be it. He's a little intimidated at first, seeing all the equipment and items he couldn't even name (some of which looked like they hurt a lot…) lined up on and along the walls, on tables, hanging from the ceiling.

He looks to Isaac to see if it's ok to explore and the other man nods. Jackson then circles the room, taking it all in before making his decisions.

Since it's his first time, he chooses rather 'vanilla' items. A set of cuffs, a buzzing egg shaped vibrator, and large leather coated paddle. He collects all the items and returns them to Isaac.

"Interesting choices," The dom says with that smile as he looks over the selections and then at Jackson through his lashes. Jackson feels his heart hammer again, and gasps when the cold chain is collected off his chest and back in Isaac's hand. "Come along now." There is a tug on the chain and Isaac is leading him back to the room.

Once back inside Isaac tells him, "Edge of the bed," with a sharp bark and Jackson quickly (quicker than he would like to admit) does as he's told.

"You seem nervous. Are you having second thoughts?" Isaac asks when he places all the items, except for the paddle, on the dresser and returns to take off the collar, dropping it to the floor. Jackson says nothing. "Good, you're learning." Jackson doesn't want to admit that he feels elated at the praise, surprised that he feels that way over something he's experienced his whole life. Isaac comes back to towering in front of him. He smiles, a much softer smile, when he cups the side of Jackson's face and strokes his cheek. "For today I'll allow you to answer yes or no. After every response you must add a sir. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir." Jackson replies, proud that his voice doesn't waver.

"Good," Isaac continues to smile. "When you are ready to submit to me fully, you may use Master or sir. But only when you are fully willing to submit to me as your Master. Outside of this room, if addressed and I allow you to speak, you are to call me sir or Master Isaac. Clear?"

"Yes sir."

His hand moves to cup the side of Jackson's neck. "You may moan and make noise, but all other speech than what we just discussed will result in punishment. Clear?"

"Yes sir."

Jackson is startled when he's suddenly flipped and his face is thrust into the sheets.

"Keep count. When I'm done I'll ask you how many that was and if you're wrong you'll have to count them again." Jackson yelps when the leather paddle comes down hard on his ass. The pain sharp, startling, and….arousing. Each spank seems to go straight through his ass and to his cock, that flinches then swells harder. Jackson's hands twist into the sheets as the spanks continue, almost biting through his lip to keep from doing more than moaning. "How many?"

Jackson opens his eyes, blown wide with shameful lust, and has to rack his foggy brain to think of a count, "15."

The paddle comes down again, hard, and Jackson yelps and jumps forward; or he tries to with Isaac's hand still on the back of his neck. "Ooo…sorry," Isaac coos, teasingly caressing the smooth leather on his heated skin. "You forgot that one from earlier, it's actually 16. And you forgot to say sir." The teasing stops and the smacks continue. "How many?"

"31 sir," Jackson croaks. It's getting harder to breathe with lungs panting for air and his face still pressed hard into the sheets.

"Hmmm…total. Not what I asked for but you're not wrong. I don't know, do you think I should spank you more for being a smartass?"

Jackson's drowsy mind thinks, or tries to, and it surprises him when the words, "Yes…sir…" comes out of his mouth.

"Very well," He thinks he hears a smile on Isaac's lips. The idea of it making him feel happier than he thinks it should. The spanking continues. Jackson's cock is unbelievably hard now. It leaks pre-cum with each smack on the sheets, and it surprises him that his first thought when he thinks of it is 'will Master not be pleased that I'm dirtying his bed…?' "How many?"

"Total or now sir?"

A sharp, almost violent smack beats his red skin. Jackson knows now that that was a punishment. "What did we agree?" Isaac asks, caresses his battered skin with the paddle again. "Total. I want to hear how much this pretty ass of yours has taken again."

"5..51 sir," He pants.

"Mmmmm….have you ever taken a beating like this before?"

"No sir." Jackson chokes. His throat is tight. It's hard to speak, hard to breath. Half of him thinks to ask for Isaac to take his hand off the back of his neck. The other half thinks to ask him to press harder.

"I can tell." Isaac crows, seeming proud, and the paddle bounces on the bed by Jackson's head. The sub hisses in a breath through his teeth when the dom's cool fingers caress his fiery skin, squirming at the barely there touch. "You're ass is so red it's like an apple. Which is fitting for that apple bottom ass of yours. I bet people tell you you have a cute ass all the time." Isaac's hand suddenly cups Jackson's right cheek and the sound that gets stuck in the sub's throat is unflattering. "Sensitive are we?"

"Yes sir." Jackson squeaks a the light hand smack that taps his ass.

"Rhetorical," Jackson's eyes flutter when the word is breathed against his ear. God he's so turned on. His hips roll his aching cock into the mattress, rutting against it like a pre-teen just discovering that his 'special place' felt good. "Who told you it was ok to hump the bed like a whore?"

"Hn….?" Jackson moans in confusion when Isaac speaks again, but wakes up when he's pulled back from the soft surface by his hair.

"I asked who gave you permission to hump the bed like a whore."

"No one sir." Jackson whines, from the pain of his scalp and sharp hiss in his ear.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes! Yes sir!" Jackson shouts, thrusting his hips up when Isaac's long fingers graze is aching cock and hissing when his fleshly spanked ass grazes back against the dom's pants leg.

"Have you been good enough to cum pet?"

"Y-Yes sir?" Jackson stammers, knees near buckling as the tips of the dom's fingers barely touch his needy flesh.

"Are you suuuure?"

"Yes sir," He whines. He can't think. He can't breathe. All he can think of is 'I wanna cum. I wanna cum so bad. Why can't I cum? Why, why, why?'

"Say please."

Jackson gulps, his pride getting in the way at the idea of begging to release. He won't do it. He won't. He was Jackson Whittmore and he had his pride and he wouldn't beg.

Or at least that's what he says. But after a while, which is really only a few seconds, Jackson hangs his head in defeat and whispers a broken, "Please….." because his cock and balls hurt so badly and he needs to cum.

Isaac's lips come up beside his ear, brushing against it when he whispers "Cum." And like the trigger of a gun, Jackson's cock shoots white hot cum along the sheets, his body at first ridged before it shakes as the last few shots spurt out.

When his cock is finally spent he falls boneless in Isaac's arms. The dom seems to hold him for a second, before he pushes him forward and lets him fall against the bed in the streaks of his own cum.

"Take a minute. Catch your breath."

Jackson can't think to argue. He can't think at all really. His body feels spent, depleted, empty. But….in a good way. He's never felt so light, so…satisfied.

Jackson jolts when a cool cloth touches his skin. "Hey, hey, take it easy." Isaac says, gentle like the touch on the sub's shoulder. Jackson relaxes against the mattress again, lets Jackson wipe the sweat off his back and soothingly caresses his lethargic muscles. "After care is a very important part of the process Jackson." Isaac tells him, rubbing what Jackson assumes is a lotion or cream meant to take the sting and pain out of his ass. "It's important for the building process of trust. Reminds you that your dom isn't here to punish you, they are here to take care of you." Jackson hums, not really in understanding but in appreciation of the massage on his ass, and lets himself be flipped over on his back.

He hisses when his abused skin touches the bed, but relaxes when Isaac again touches his shoulder and wipes the cooling cum from his stomach. "If you need to shower, there's one behind that door." Isaac tells him and Jackson nods tiredly. "Did you enjoy it?" Jackson's head lulls to the side and he nods. "Do you want me to keep being your dom then?"

"Yes sir," Jackson says, without hesitation.

Isaac smiles, a sweet one this time, and chuckles, "You don't have to call me sir during after care. You can just call me Isaac."

Jackson smiles, coerced by his orgasm and boneless satisfaction, "Ok…Isaac."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are always welcome, encouraged, and appreciated


	3. Chapter 3

Isaac had always been a very intuitive person.

When he was a kid he always knew when his parents were going to fight and left to go hide in his tree house. He knew before his parents told him that they were getting a divorce, which was why he wasn't surprised. He also wasn't surprised when his mother took Cam and not him, even if his father had been.

He got better at it as he grew older, fine-tuned it really. He needed to learn living under his father's house those final years in high school, when he had become more violent and abusive. His intuition often meant spending the night in his then run down tree house or in a locked down freezer. So he had to get good at it. Which was why he was such a good dom.

"Jackson, if you aren't going to play by the rules you can't play at all."

The crop lashes across the sub's exposed back with a crack and he whines before biting out a 'yes sir'. Isaac sucked on the inside of his bottom lip, running the flat tip of the crop across the new mark to keep it alive longer.

Jackson, his new client, was going to be a stubborn one. Isaac knew it the moment he saw him. That cocky attitude and superior look he gave him when he first walked into Mistress Lydia's office reminded him of the jocks he had known in school that had snickered and looked down on him for his hand-me-down clothes and long sleeves in summer they didn't know covered his bruises. He had wanted to knock them down a few pegs when he saw them too, and Isaac would be lying if he said he didn't get _immense_ satisfaction from the thought of someone like Jackson (a good looking, wealthy, probably popular guy) had to come to someone like him (a broke, part-time dominate, who was more a loner) to get what he needed.

Isaac just hadn't suspected _how_ difficult Jackson would be when he first met him. Oh, he listened. He just didn't _submit_ , which were two completely different things.

Over the couple weeks Jackson had been coming to him he had been purposely trying Isaac's patients and authority; moving when he wasn't supposed to, speaking just a bit more than aloud, gritting his teeth to the point that either they or he would snap until he begged for what he wanted.

The crop cracks across Jackson's lower back just above his ass and he roars out a, "Fuck!"

"I said not to move."

"But it hurts!" The bound man shouts, obviously trying and failing to look over his shoulder at Isaac. It was a stupid attempt. Even if his eyes weren't covered there was no way he could turn his head back that far with his arms strung up like that; long, ruby cords tied around his wrists that then coiled around the post of Isaac's bed while he stands at the foot of it.

"If it hurts use you're safe words."

"It doesn't hurt that bad…."

Isaac huffs then and tosses the crop to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Jackson demands when Isaac takes off his blindfold, glaring up at him.

"If you're looking to just get smacked around you need to find somewhere else to do that." Isaac tells him while unstrapping one arm. It falls limp and Jackson hisses, probably from the tingling sensation that Isaac knows feels like ants crawling through your veins from being strung up so long.

"What are you talking about?" He asks, rubbing the second arm when it's free. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Isaac in indignation when the dom squares a serious look at him.

"I know you're not stupid Jackson. Neither am I. You're deliberately disobeying me so I'll punish you."

Jackson's eyes flash in a panic for a second before he looks angry again. "I'm not-"Don't argue with me!" Isaac cuts in aggressively and Jackson shuts his mouth. "I saw you flinch. You intentionally thought about it before you did anything."

Isaac was very intuitive. It's what made him a good dom. He was able to tell what his subs needed, what they didn't. When they needed a break even when they didn't know it, or when they could take just a little more when they thought they couldn't. So he knew that Jackson was testing him on purpose.

He sees the other think about denying it, flaps his gums even though no words come out, before he sighs. "Look I'm sorry I just….." Jackson rubs the back of his head before looking up through his bangs at Isaac. "I don't…know what I'm doing alright."

"And you think the point of BDSM is for me to beat you until you get off?" He's not surprised when Jackson nods. It was a common misconception with novice, left to their own devices and the internet. A lot of them misdirected their desires to just wanting rough sex but that wasn't the case. Isaac now sees again why Lydia chose him for Jackson. He needed more than a dom. He needed guidance. "Jackson," Isaac says gently, placing his hand on his shoulder with equal care, and the other looks up at him. "The point of this isn't to be punished. The point is to not be punished because you trust you're dom enough to obey. Punishment is a bad thing, it's not a reward."

"But I…."

"You like it?" Isaac offers casually with a grin, chuckling despite himself when Jackson petulantly blushes. He was so damn cute when he denied things. "There's nothing wrong with that. And if that's what you want I'll give it to you. You need to let me know what you want. But if you're going to continue to disobey me then I'll have no choice but to stop being your dom."

"I don't want that." Jackson says instantly to the floor, surprising Isaac a little with how quickly the words come out. But he doesn't show it.

"Good." He says sternly instead. "Now, you're going to get on your knees and I'm gonna tie you up again and punish you for your earlier disobedience. After that I don't want any more insolence out of you. You're going to behave yes?"

"Yes," Jackson sort of sighs when his eyes are covered again. It makes Isaac's member twitch with power and the sheer sex appeal of it.

"Yes what?" Isaac hisses in his ear when he pulls the blindfold tight, tilting Jackson's head back.

"Ah! Yes sir!"

"Good boy." Isaac praises and tosses his head back forward before forcing Jackson to his knees. He goes with little resistance, which Isaac likes, and the dom rebinds his arms to the bed. "Mmm…you look good on your knees for me pet." Isaac coos when the binds are again tight and he trails his finger tips from one wrist to the other making Jackson shiver. "You know, if you listened a bit more maybe I would spend some time on my knees for you. I've been wondering what that hot cock of yours would taste like shoved deep down my throat."

"Fu-" The curse from Jackson's mouth is cut off when he bites his bottom lip. Bites it hard by the looks of it, so Isaac lets the almost slip slide.

"But only good subs get treats like that from their dom, and you haven't been a very good sub have you?"

"N-No sir," Jackson admits, and it sounds like it hurts him to admit he's failed.

"But you're going to be better aren't you pet? You'll listen, you'll obey. You'll be a good sub so I can treat you right, yes?"

"Y-Yes sir," Jackson whines, tilting his head back against his shoulder when his long fingers grasp his hard cock.

Isaac smirks then nips the side of the subs neck before he leaves him. The choked whine that leaves his sub at the loss of him is empowering, and stimulating. He retrieves the crop from the floor, switches the air to let Jackson know he has it again, before given the strict order for him to "Count" before lashing him again.

He alternates between soft taps and harsh smacks in an uneven rhythm to keep Jackson guessing.

By the end, Isaac's arm is tired and Jackson is quivering and panting.

"You did much better pet," Isaac tells him as he returns the crop to the dresser and pulls out a new toy to play with. "In fact, you did so well, I think you deserve a reward."

The dom catches the stuttered hitch in his subs breath as he unbinds his arms from the posts. He doesn't remove the cords from his arms though and uses them like a leash to guide the other on top of the bed. The limber, feline grace that Jackson exudes when he crawls across the comforter makes Isaac lick his lip and he runs his hand down the damp, abused skin of his back when he comes near to stop him.

"Does it hurt a lot pet?" Isaac asks when he hears Jackson whine.

"No sir,"

"Of course not, because your my good pet that can take anything." He strokes Jackson's face affectionately before guiding him onto his back slowly. "I'm gonna tie your hands to the headboard now. Tell me if they're too tight." The blonde then crawls on to the bed and purposefully straddles Jackson's waist, hovering just above it to let him know he's there but not touching enough. Judging by the groan in the subs throat he's succeeded.

Isaac then slides down Jackson's hard body to his cock, licking patches of skin and breathing on others to get him to twitch and squirm. He's pleased to see that he's trying very hard not to move, because he hasn't been told he could.

"You can move Jackson. I'll even let you speak freely. But until you're willing to beg I won't be taking this off." The cock ring from Isaac's pocket slips around Jackson with a soft click and the other man curses at the cold restriction.

He smirks. He won't admit it but he likes the way Jackson curses. It's sexy, but he doesn't need more of an ego boost.

The dom then begins to go to work on the subs cock, starting with teasing licks from base to tip like it's a frozen treat.

"Fuuuck!" Jackson curses. His arms pull tight on the cords as his back bows and hips lift. Isaac chuckles and keeps licking. "Fuck! Suck me Isaac." The dom smacks the side of the subs ass roughly and pulls back.

"Honestly? And here I thought you were going to listen. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to leave you here then-"No, no, no, please. Sir! I'm sorry!" Isaac chuckles again, low in his chest. "That's better." He then swallows Jackson all the way down his throat.

"Fu….fk…sh…!" The sudden engulfment seems to leave the other speechless and Isaac smirks around the cock in his mouth.

He sucks hard before bobbing his head. He knows he's good at giving head, people have told him. But still…it's satisfying to see Jackson wrecked by the work of his mouth, transformed from the cocky alpha male to the quivering whining mess under him.

"Sir…Sir please….please take it off…"

"Take what off?" Isaac asks when his mouth pops off Jackson to speak, his hips chasing after him.

"T-The ring. Please…. _please_ take it off. It _hurts_."

"Why should I?" His tongue swipes a long stripe across the almost angry erect penis in front of him.

"Because I need to cum!"

"Well, I need you to listen." Isaac chides, twirling his finger tip around the dripping almost purple head of Jackson's cock. The sub whines painfully. "Do you promise to listen from now on?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, _please_. I'll listen! I'll listen!"

"You'll obey?"

" _Yes!_ I'll obey!"

Isaac nods and takes off the cock ring. "Cum."

The sub shouts until his voice gives out as he shoots white streams of cum across his own chest and Isaac's bed. It turns Isaac on, to see him lose it and cum so hard that he hits his own chin with it.

"See, aren't things so much better when you listen."

Jackson pants limply against the bed but nods dumbly at the rhetorical question from his dom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and feedback are, as always, appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Soon, Jackson is at the Beacon a minimum of twice a week. His co-workers and friends think he's gone and gotten himself a girlfriend (or boyfriend to those that know he was bisexual) but he just laughs their inquires off lightly. 'If only they knew' he thought. Yes, if only they knew that the man they all pictured as the affluent playboy spent most of his free time now bound and gagged for an arguably gangly man he paid to hit him. If only they knew….

Jackson parked his car in the parking lot and got out of it quickly the head inside. His appointment with Isaac was for 7 but he had gotten held up at work and then traffic so he had rushed over from the office to make it; he didn't want to miss his appointment, like it was one with a much needed doctor or something, and he didn't want to cut into his time with Isaac if he decided to see him after he was late.

He rang the buzzer and asked to be let in in a rush and was surprised to hear a man answer.

"Whoa! Take it easy. I'll let you in man." The box said and Jackson furrowed at the uncharacteristic unprofessionalism of the Beacon receptionist.

He doesn't dwell on it long, however, as he's soon let in and he went in. Good, here was there at 6:50. He wasn't late yet.

"Hey there!" Jackson looked up from his expensive Bulova watch and frowned with his whole face at the beaming man (or boy because he looked young) behind the counter. "You must be Isaac's new client."

"Ummm….yes." He said in response, unsure who this guy was and how he knew about him and more than a little creeped out by the way he was grinning at him.

"So you're him." The receptionist said, and Jackson frowned further not knowing what 'you're' meant like that. "I'm Stiles. One of the subs on staff."

"Oh…"

That didn't explain anything. Jackson didn't appreciate people knowing about him if he didn't know them. Well…that wasn't true. He actually thrived off that. But in this instance he was uncomfortable with it. What else did he know about him? Did he know about the things Isaac did for him, to him? Was there like a hidden camera or was that big mirror in Isaac's room a two-way and they had been watching him?! Ok…that last bit did not have the intended reaction. He should be outraged at the thought, not turned on!

"Stiles!" Jackson and Stiles both snap their necks to the left as a dark haired man with a scruff of a beard in leather pants came out of the back, the playrooms. "Leave the clientele alone." He barked, but came up behind Stiles and kissed his cheek.

The smaller brunette giggled a little and all but chirped out a, "Yes master."

"Good boy," The dom, obviously, said with a soft smile but became stone faced again when he looked at Jackson. "Don't you have somewhere to be."

The remark isn't a question, it's a statement. He was telling Jackson to get lost. Who was he to tell Jackson?

He was about to tell him that when a merciful, "he does" cut through the room and Jackson saw Isaac just appear in the corner of the room, his shoulder against the wall, and looking at him in amusement. "Jackson, are you antagonizing the staff?"

Jackson bristled at that. He hadn't done anything! This….guy just came in here and was bossing him around for talking to the fucking receptionist, who started it by the way. "No! I-" Jackson started but at the arch of Isaac's brow he shut his mouth. He turned away and hissed through his teeth towards the ground. "I'll be in the back." He muttered, and all but pushed past Isaac to head for his room and wait for his dom.

"He's feisty."

He heard from Stiles. Followed by a, "you need to discipline him more." From the grumpy looking dom in cliché leather pants.

Jackson huffed again and went into Isaac's room with a slam of the door. Angrily, he pulled off his suit jacket and threw it on top of the dresser. Who was he to say if Jackson needed more discipline or not?! He wasn't his dom. It wasn't his place to make decisions about anything Jackson did or didn't do. Jackson was his to criticize!

A soft curse hissed through his teeth as his anger made his hands shake and almost impossible to undo the buttons of his shirt, and the door opened.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw Isaac, which surprisingly made him feel relieved. He doesn't look mad, but Jackson still mumbled out an 'I'm sorry' as he turned back around to undo his shirt; his hands shaking less and making it a little easier. He heard Isaac's footsteps toward him and expected punishment, but instead he turned him around.

"You don't have to apologies." Isaac said, batting Jackson's hands away and undoing the last button of his shirt before pulling it out of his slacks but not off. "Derek is just protective of Stiles. And he likes to egg people on."

"That's Derek?" Jackson asked in kind of a sigh as Isaac undid his belt and pulled it free of the loops before sitting it on the dresser.

"Yep, that's him," Isaac isn't looking at him, focused on undressing him. He undid the button of his slack, the back of his hand carefully caressing Jackson's cock under the guise of pulling down his zipper, and Jackson moaned as the material pooled to the floor with his boxers. "He's not so bad though, once you get to know him."

"I'm sure." Jackson said; his voice is thick with sarcasm as he rolled his shoulder to make taking his suit shirt off easier. Isaac chuckled a little and Jackson smiled at the idea of getting him to laugh.

He was about to undo his tie and take off his undershirt when the other man caught his hands. "Leave the tie on." Isaac told him and stepped close to breath hotly in his ear, "It's kinda hot."

Jackson moaned, knees quaking, but dropped his hands and let himself be led by the tie to the bed.

They have sex for hours; and yes, at this point they are having real sex. Isaac played with him and teased him until Jackson didn't know which way was up and which way was down, then tied him spread eagle to the bed posts and rode him at almost a crippling pace like he was a horse in the Kentucky Derby. He came so hard he was worried he broke the condom. But he didn't.

"I have a question." Jackson asked when they are finished, breaths caught, bodies sore but clean, and he was buttoning his shirt back up again. Isaac gave a small grunt and tilted his head, so Jackson took that as an affirmative to speak. "How does that work, with Stiles and Derek both working here?"

Isaac stood from the bed and redid his belt. "Stiles and Derek don't take on clients like I do or like Jen, a sub that works here. They do a lot of the training for staff and clients. They also teach the couples classes."

"Oh…." Jackson said thoughtfully, tucking his shirt in.

"But that's just them." He added, picking up his shirt and pulling it on. "Another dom, Erica, she has a boyfriend at him who isn't into this…lifestyle. She just has a strict 'no-sex' rule and he seems fine with it."

"How?" Jackson asked, looking up from buckling his belt with a confused expression.

Isaac seemed to ponder this for a second as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. "I guess he understands that she needs an outlet for her desires and, if he can't fulfill them and she isn't having sex with people, that it's all ok." While he spoke he pulled his socks and shoes on.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Jackson asked, slipping his own shoes on.

"No."

"Girlfriend?" He asked and Isaac laughed a little.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone." He told Jackson with an odd but sort of soft expression.

"Oh…" Jackson said, pulling his suit jacket on, and realized that perhaps Isaac didn't want to talk about his life outside of here. "I'm sorry if that-"It's fine." Isaac cut in with a lift of his hand and Jackson gave a nod to drop it.

They both head for the door and when they get there Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. "So, Sunday?"

"Sure. I'll be here after church." Jackson's eyes widen as he furrowed his brows and Isaac laughed. "It was a joke." He said, and Jackson frowned at being punked. Isaac opened the door and told him, "be sure to take your aspirin and at least a hot shower if you can't take an Epson salt bath" as his parting words.

"Yes mother." Jackson said with a roll of his eyes and chuckled a little when Isaac swatted his ass playfully.

Stiles waved to him as he leaves and Jackson, just to be a dick because he can see Derek lurking in the corner, gave him a wink in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know you all waited a long time for an update and you got this. I'm sorry. Hopefully I'll be able to post a longer, better chapter in the next week or so but with holidays coming we shall see.
> 
> All comments and feedback are appreciated. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome, encouraged, and appreciated


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